


I Came Here for Sanctuary

by Joyd



Series: Undergrad AU [7]
Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cuddling & Snuggling, Idiots in Love, Insomnia, Love Confessions, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-26
Updated: 2016-04-26
Packaged: 2018-06-04 14:49:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6663091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Joyd/pseuds/Joyd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>"Voice low with the scratchy hoarseness of disuse and fatigue, and comforted with the assurance that they won’t hear him anyway."</i>
</p><p> </p><p>One day I'll write these three as something other than completely sappy. One day. Someday.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Came Here for Sanctuary

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kandayuu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kandayuu/gifts).



It’s 4am, the rager a couple houses down is finally dispersing, and even with the windows open Winters feels like he’s melting from the heat. It’s a warm, muggy night, but that isn’t the problem, he’s used to that. The extra heat coming from the two bodies sprawled across him and tangled together in a mess of limbs with no escape, that’s where the problem lies. 

That he doesn’t _want_ to escape is the part he still gets caught up on. 

The weight of Cross and Klaud pressed against his sides, tangled up together over his chest with their legs wound around his, and the way one of them will huff and squeeze him any time he so much as flexes his wrist. There’s barely enough room for the three of them in his bed, but that hardly matters when they’re piled on top of each other -well, mostly on top of him. He can’t remember the last time he’d slept alone, but he _can_ remember how… off it had felt. How difficult it had been to fall asleep at all, much less to stay that way or get any rest. It isn’t _always_ his bed they fall into, but more often than not it is, mostly because Cross’ apartment is a _disaster_ and Klaud’s roommate was never lacking in innuendos and wolf-whistles. 

If he hadn’t been at the receiving end of it, Winters never would have thought Lulubell capable of a wolf-whistle, but firsthand experience said otherwise. 

He spent a lot of time like this, with them _cuddling_ -either with him or on him- and unaware of his nightly contemplation of the ceiling and their relationship. Even marathon sex with the two of them is no match for his insomnia, but just laying here like this is more restful than he ever would have guessed. He’s gotten more sleep in the last 8 months of being _With_ them than he did in the entire year leading up to it. He’s not usually one for deep contemplation or thinking too deeply into stuff like love and relationships, but he’s not so blind that he’d miss the connection. 

Klaud sighing in her sleep and curling even closer alerts him to the breeze that’s picked up, the chill in the air coming with the promise of the storm that’s been forecast for the past three days but hasn’t yet dropped. The faint sound of the rain on the leaves of the overgrown bushes outside his windows is just the beginning, and the breeze picks up along with it. He can’t get up and shut them, not tangled up with his lovers like he is, so he just untangles his arm from under Cross enough to drag the blankets up over them all. He’s sure to sweat to death like this, but the two of them get cold in 70F weather and he doesn’t want to wake up to them whining and shivering, if he ever does manage to get to sleep. 

As he goes back to staring at the ceiling, he feels Klaud shift and press closer again while Cross hums and kisses his shoulder, and they’re both -more than likely- still deep asleep, but he finds himself begrudgingly endeared anyway. They’re a mess, the three of them, and it’s a wonder they haven’t killed each other, much less worked out like they have. Even with them basically freeloading in his space and making a mess of his living room, he really can’t complain, given this is more than he ever expected for himself. 

Winters never really thought about relationships as a kid, but he’s sure that if he did, he _never_ would have pictured ending up in a polyamorous three-way with the laziest genius he’s ever met and a woman who could kick both their asses without breaking a sweat. 

As he closes his eyes and commits to just wasting away the rest of the night listening to the rain and cuddling with his _whatever_ they are, he gives his thoughts voice, barely audible over the rain. Voice low with the scratchy hoarseness of disuse and fatigue, and comforted with the assurance that they won’t hear him anyway. 

“I love you.” 

**Author's Note:**

> WHY IS IT ALWAYS WINTERS AND WHY IS IT ALWAYS MUSHY AND SAPPY???  
> I'M AROMANTIC I DON'T EVEN HAVE ANY EXPERIENCE IN THIS NONSENSE.
> 
> For the record, they've all confessed in one way or another now. lethargicProfessor wrote Klaud's "confession", and I have Cross' too.


End file.
